


The Whipping Boy

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Fairytales [6]
Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairytale, Attention Seeking Behavior, Brattiness, Bratty Behavior, Caning, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fairy Tale Parody, Grooming, Intimidation, Jealousy, Kinky Shit, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Point Of View Switch, Prince and the Pauper, Really I’m trying to make Konoe a brat for real, Royal Education, Severe Intimidation, bratty konoe, change of heart, morality tale, prince konoe, rapping on knuckles, try not to feel sorry for first person POV, whipping boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:18:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: This is literally based on a comment by Certainly Heisenberg that was posted, like, yesterday. No, it isn’t well thought-out. No, it isn’t very serious. But yes, it should be fun. Merry Christmas and happy holidays!This is a kinky sort of retelling of The Prince and the Pauper (kind of), with a bratty prince Konoe, who is telling this tale. He gets anything he wants in his kingdom at the age of 15 and his last escapades earned serious harm to his last whipping boy. So Papa Leaks suggested sturdier stock—from Setsura, a slightly older boy, and unfortunately, former prince, Rai. It turns out Rai is also a little smarter than Konoe and intimidates the hell out of him.This story will probably not go like the Prince and the Pauper, but I hope there will be some fun (non-con) stuff in this. This may not be your kink, so skip it if isn’t for you. This is a gift fic, after all! I will be updating the tags as I go along, so please beware.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CertainlyHeisenberg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CertainlyHeisenberg/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Whipping Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/438534) by Sid Fleischman. 



> Also, I have wanted to tell a first person POV story with a character that is unsympathetic for a long, long time. I’m not sure I can do it, so this is my attempt. I have a theory that with first person, you kind of always feel for that character, no matter how bratty or unreliable he is.
> 
> I should note that I have not read Sid Fleischman’s book, The Whipping Boy. But that is what this fic is inspired by, at least the story CertainlyHeisenberg’s comment mentioned, at least.

I do whatever I like. I’m the crown prince of Sisa, after all. No one can lay a finger on me. I have servants who dress me, cook for me, clean for me, feed me, bathe me, even wipe my ass. And today, I have acquired a new whipping boy from the subjugated kingdom of Setsura. I can’t wait to meet him.

Because my person is royal, no one can punish me. My whipping boy is a dedicated servant for that purpose. However, due to my last escapade, the last boy to serve this post has met an untimely retirement from service due to “health reasons.” He was a jerk anyway, always trying to convince me to behave a certain way to save himself from doing his royal duty! Can you _imagine_? It should have been his  _honor_  to serve me!

This time, Papa has found me sturdier stock. And I have already skipped today’s lessons, ruined the chef’s pastries for tonight’s banquet, and broken my sister’s prized doll—which will make her weep for hours. I can hear her howling from the other side of the castle. This new boy will be serving me right away, I’m sure. I can’t wait to see how he suffers for me! It’s my favorite part of the day—witnessing his punishment! 

Of course, I’m in for quite a scolding, myself. I usually just let it go in one ear and out the other. Now, I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop— _and_ for his arrival. I cannot _wait_ to see how he handles himself. It’s got to be better than... what was his name? I just called him Boy, but it seems slightly poor form now that he is gone, and I have a new Boy. 

I am gazing out the window—and it’s a lovely spring day. I’m fifteen, now—plenty old enough to rule this kingdom, more than wise enough, certainly beautiful enough—but both my parents are doing well. I suspect it will be some time before they want to step down and hand the crown to me, the true ruler.

“Why are you just standing there?” I snap at the last lazy servant in my quarters. I’ve chased all the others out already, scolding them for their poor work habits. “Make yourself useful and fetch me some tea!” 

I am _forever_ having to manage the staff in my castle—whether they don’t wash me quickly enough, fetch the proper clothes, or clean my room well enough—I see they haven’t been able to keep up with the mess I deliberately leave behind to test their skills—and I will scold them later. And I know how to give a proper dressing down, after all the times I’ve been scolded by my parents. I should know better than anyone.

But _that_ is what ruling is all about, after all—it’s how to run a castle by keeping one’s staff in line. I would beat them myself if I could. Instead, I end up throwing things—cups and saucers of tea when it isn’t sweet enough, food if it isn’t prepared to my liking, my shoes if they are the wrong ones, pencils if they aren’t sharpened—anything at hand, really. When I am king, I think I will make beating and flogging servants the norm.

I can’t remember the last lesson I’ve finished. Perhaps rulers should know how to find the value of x, or how to _parler_ _Français_ , but I don’t give a shit. My accountants can run numbers for me. Visitors can speak _my_ language. And if they don’t, I’ll scold them, scream at them, and throw things till they do it properly. Or beat them, when I’m the king.

My tea is delivered—quite timely, in fact—and steaming. I watch as the servant drizzles in honey and two lumps of sugar and a dash of cream, just how I prefer. He hands me the cup on saucer, and I burn my tongue on the first sip. _Unacceptable_! I throw the cup and saucer at the servant in a rage!

“Too damned hot! Why didn’t you cool it first, or at least warn me? Get the fuck out!”

The servant cleans up the mess, scurrying about, and I kick his ass to hurry him along, and I’m left alone in my reading room. I stare out the window—longing to escape this boredom—such tedium—I want to see the kingdom I will rule with my own eyes—and I notice something unusual. It’s completely _quiet_. My younger sister is no longer howling.

That can’t be, because I am sure I left her doll very broken. I crushed its head to pieces while she was at breakfast!

I start pacing to and fro, and I’m very agitated. One of my pranks has gone sour. I’m going to have to see how the situation has remedied itself, and how I can make her cry again. I simply _must_ get the new boy in trouble!

I make sure to place my crown on my head before I leave the room—and I fluff up my fur and hair, straightening out my royal attire. I always look the part when I roam around my castle—for surely it is _my_ castle. I want every servant to recognize me—my beautiful white and caramel-tipped ears and slightly crooked tail, my perfect golden shoulder-length hair, currently pulled back in a ponytail to keep it in line—for it does tend to get a bit unruly at times. And today, I’m wearing royal red with ivory accents, which makes my golden eyes look striking. 

I look the part of a king, not just a prince. I could easily take the place of my father, I think. And so, I head out my door to my sister’s wing. They keep us children in separate wings—Kagari is two years younger than me but has always been a baby. Though I have to admit she at least shares our family’s beauty. She has blonde hair, her ears and tail like Dad’s, caramel with white tips. Her eyes are green like his, too. I’m said to take after our late mother, who strangely looked like Papa. My memories of her are vague, but that’s no surprise, since we were raised by the nursery.

Whenever I walk in the castle, I take slow, meaningful steps, even if I’m in a hurry. This sets me apart from the servant class and makes my royal status much better known. Although you’d have to be an idiot to miss my crown and jewels. Not to mention my fine attire. I’m slightly distracted by my reflection—there is a full-length mirror on the way to sister’s room that always takes me by surprise.

The handsome reflection there always requires a second look. I give myself any final touches, fixing my hair, straightening my collar and crown if needed, or simply admiring myself. It can add five minutes to my walk, but I do cut a fine figure for my age. I’m sure to be a mighty fine catch.

When arrive in front of my sister’s doors, I push them open. She doesn’t have much staff today, I see. But in the glowing light of soft sage green walls and plush carpets, I’m shocked at the scene I see before me. 

At her vanity, I see a huge male cat, seated low with his legs folded up beneath him uncomfortably, with lovely pale skin and the longest, straightest, silver hair I have ever seen—nearly down to his waist. He has matching long white fur on his abnormally long tail, which is twitching occasionally, and on his small, softly rounded ears.

For some inexplicable reason, my sister is standing behind him and brushing his hair, a look of absolute _ecstasy_ on her face. The broken doll is off in the corner, completely forgotten, much to my chagrin and irritation. 

I look in the mirror of the vanity and am met with the most insubordinate, icy pale blue glare I have _ever_ seen in my life. Of course, these eyes belong to the cat whose hair my sister is currently brushing so fondly. But why is he staring at me like that? He looks _more_ than annoyed—he looks like he wants to scratch my eyes out!

I actually flinch and fold my ears back timidly when I see that glare, almost backing out of the room the same way I came in. However, I’m here for a reason. And damn it, I’m the crown prince of my kingdom! I will _not_ be intimidated, not even by a huge, older male. He cannot _possibly_ outrank me! 

“Good morning, Kagari,” I say sweetly. “I heard you weeping earlier and I came to see if I could help.”

She flashes her evil green eyes at me for a split second before returning to her task of ecstatic hair styling. What’s _with_ that? 

“‘Oh. It was nothing. Apparently _someone_ broke an old favorite toy of mine. But I don’t care about it anymore. I’ve completely outgrown it, you see.” 

A small sound, like a soft growl, comes from the silver beast in the chair, which I find frightening—it makes me jump—but Kagari pays him no mind.

“Who is this, then? Does Papa know you are entertaining _men_ in your chambers unsupervised?” My tone is quite snarky and mean.

“I’m Rai, your highness. I believe I work for you. I’m here on your business, saving your sorry reputation.” A startlingly low voice growls from the silver beast in the chair.

I try not to flinch, but I do. And visibly.

“Rai?” I keep as much disdain in my voice as possible, but it’s quivering in fear. “I don’t know you.”

He turns his body toward me. _Shit_. He is _huge_! More than _twice_ my size. I cringe a little. He meets my gaze very boldly, pale blue eyes boring into mine as though  _he_ is royalty himself. 

“I was hired to ‘ _help_ ’ you, as your stand-in.” 

“Stand-in?” I echo, my voice much quieter and less confident than it was.

“I understand in your country, it’s forbidden to strike your person.” His voice is quite aggressive—I mean, the way he is speaking to me is _unheard_ of—even harsher than when Papa scolds me! It’s making my ears ruffle up and flatten, making the fur on my tail fluff out. I want to bare my fangs!

“Of course it is! Hitting a royal person is _treason_! Where the hell are _you_ from?!” I shout, now angry and afraid. 

“Setsura.” He turns around again, casually, as if he is ignoring me.

Kagari gives me the most satisfied smirk I’ve ever seen. 

Wait just a minute! _This_ is my new whipping boy? I knew Papa said heavier stock, but this is ridiculous! 

“ _You’re_ my new whipping boy?” I ask, my voice quiet. I admit I’m slightly afraid of him. Well, maybe more than slightly, if I’m honest.

“Apparently. I’ve never heard of such a _ridiculous_ tradition,” Rai replies, looking at me—meeting my eyes in the mirror once more. He has a self-righteous look on his face, acting as though he is _better_ than me. “And I see you have quite a welcome for me, too.”

I flinch again.

“W-welcome?” I actually stammer. “Wh-what welcome?” Damn it! He’s flustering me. 

Rai looks up at my sister and smiles sweetly. When his rather handsome face breaks into a smile, I cannot _believe_ how gorgeous he is. He looks more like a prince than _I_ do—even in those rather plain clothes of his. 

“Are you going to be all right now? If I can, I will stop by and see you tomorrow, Miss Kagari.” His voice purrs gently when speaking to my sister. I don’t like it one bit! 

“Of course,” she actually curtsies to him—I’ve never seen her look more womanly than she does in this male cat’s presence, and it unnerves me.

“Rai! That is royal princess of Sisa! You will do no such thing! You may not take liberties with her!” 

“He is not taking liberties if I invite him here!” Kagari screams at me. “He knocked at my door when he heard me crying, asking if he could help. He was very kind. He is cleaning up after you.” 

Rai stands up from the chair. Only then do I realize how very much “sturdier” he is in person. He is at least _three_ heads taller than I am, towering over me, and at least _twice_ as broad. I am very intimidated, and I shrink back—but he catches me by the arm and says, “Allow me.”

He pulls me from the room. 

“You and I have business to discuss. Where are you quarters? In this wing? Show me!” 

He is pulling me along—and never have I been handled like this in my life!

“You may not lay hands on m—!” But he covers my mouth with his hand and drags me toward my room, where not a single servant waits, since I have frightened them all away with my yelling, scolding, and throwing things.

He slams the doors closed behind me and pushes me into a chair and looms over me.

“What _else_ have you done?” 

“What?” I look up innocently, but he grabs my chin roughly, and he is not impressed.

“I’ll try this another way. I found your sister’s broken doll. I did your lessons— _all_ of them for the last week. And I repaired the pastries in the kitchen. Did I miss anything?”

My ears flatten. I’ve been outsmarted by my own whipping boy? Who _is_ this person? And how _old_ is he? I need to find _something_  I can do to keep him in line—because damn it—now I _really_ want to see him punished—I _have_ to see him punished—and I want to see him birched or caned or whipped—not just spanked.

He has pissed me off. 

“You are not permitted to touch me!”

“And if I do, who will you tell? Who will _believe_ you? Will they believe me or you?” 

“Of course, they will believe me!” I huff. “I’m the crown prince of S—”

“You’re the crown prince of lies!” snarls Rai. “No one here believes a word from your mouth. You got into so much trouble you injured the last boy at this post almost to death. And so now, you have _me_.” 

“Who the hell _are_ you?” I finally ask. I’m not sure I want to know. 

“Until recently, I was the prince of Setsura,” Rai replies, sounding slightly disgruntled. “However, your father is a powerful sorcerer, and our kingdom was subjugated. To appease them, I was sent here as a hostage, and this is my designated post, hoping we might become ‘friends.’ How do you think it’s going so far?”

“I hate you,” I say honestly. 

“The feeling is fairly mutual,” Rai says. “Although—I don’t find you bad to look at.” 

An indignant gasp comes out of my mouth. Though I was thinking the same thing moments ago—it’s different for him to say so boldly!

“You have no right—!”

“Let me guess—to look on your person? If you really believe that, don’t wear such close-cut breeches, then. They highlight your very best feature,” Rai smirks.

My ass? I’m not sure if I’m flattered or annoyed—but I do blush furiously.

“Oh, wait—maybe I just changed my mind.” Suddenly, my ears are touched gently. “These oversized ears of yours are adorable when they turn pink. I should very much like to see that spoiled ass of your spanked till it’s the same color as these ears!” 

“Don’t touch me!” I snap, but part of me realizes there’s nothing I can do. He will do what he wants, and I’d better be careful. My mind starts racing.

“So. I know you’re used to doing things your way. But starting tomorrow, your life is going to change.”

Like _hell_ it will! I feel my bottom lip sticking out in a pout, and I turn away. I will get him back! And I’m going to do it _today_. I just need to figure out a way to find something to get him in trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Prince Brat” figures out a surefire way to get his new whipping boy in trouble, which backfires. However, he does manage to see his desired punishment by the end of the evening—but it isn’t nearly as satisfying as he expects.
> 
> Trigger warning: non-consensual caning, non-con touching and, well, licking—because I have to go there.

It isn’t till dinner that I figure out a way to get Rai into trouble. He has been cleaning up after me all day—fixing the things I break, apologizing to the staff I scold—all my usual tricks are useless with him following me around! It’s driving me crazy, pissing me off—and I want to see him punished in a _bad_ way!

While this isn't my first choice, I decide to throw a very public fit at the dinner table—in front of my parents—about the quality and temperature of my food. It’s terribly embarrassing and shameful, I know—something I haven’t done in years—since I was twelve, maybe—but I _have_ to get my parents’ attention in order to get Rai in trouble. He’s left me no choice to embarrass myself this way, because of how he’s been cleaning up after me and repairing my pranks.

At the table, he simply watches me—along with everyone else—as I throw down the biggest gauntlet I have at my disposal and pitch the biggest fit of my life, embarrassing myself and, most importantly, my parents, in the process.

I make such a fuss that _both_ my parents excuse themselves, Rai, and me from the table, much to my delight, and bring me to “the room.” Finally—I’ve been waiting for this all day! 

First, I expect to get rather an earful, since I did interrupt my parents’ peaceful dinner with my shenanigans. It will be well worth it in the end, I’m sure.

Dad is very upset—we were having quail, his favorite, which will be cold by the time he returns to the table. Naturally, he is very distressed by this. Why did I have to choose _tonight_ of all nights to pitch such a fit about the food? 

“Is there something else bothering you that you want to discuss? It’s very unlike you, my darling. This can’t really be about the food.”

Rai glares at me, of course, throughout the entire procedure. He knows what this is about, his face remaining stoic in that lovely sculpted mask. I notice he is standing much too close to me again—as he has been all day—sticking to me like glue—close enough so he can look _down_ on me, which annoys the _living shit_ out of me! From his close proximity, I can also smell his scent, which is rather distracting. He smells oddly warm since the rest of him looks so cool and icy—reminding me of vanilla mixed with something else.

“No,” I answer, “the staff has been out to get me _all_ _day_ —serving me food that is either too hot or too cold, too mild or too spicy, never just how I like it! That is no way to treat the crown prince!”

Papa is furiously embarrassed by my behavior, although he is watching Rai carefully. Papa is often amazingly observant, and for the first time, I’m slightly nervous my current scheme may not be successful.

“Konoe, I heard you did your lessons today for the first time in a week. Is this really your _only_ infraction? And you put on such a public display, in front of us, _knowing_ you will be punished. I find your behavior hard to believe and slightly suspicious.”

He is looking at Rai while he is talking to me. _Annoying_! This is supposed to be about _me_! Rai is boldly meeting his eye—like a real prince would, so unlike my previous servant. Now, I am really starting to wonder how this is going to go!

“Konoe, I told you we were going to get someone of sturdier stock to help you. And my goal is for you to become friends.Plus, you’re approaching... a delicate time of your life, during which it will be helpful to have an attractive cat your age you can rely on. Deliberate sabotage is _no_ way to start a friendship.”

What the hell is Papa talking about? Help me? My whipping boy is just a replacement, just a servant. He doesn't "help me." And what's with this talk of friends and this delicate time of my life? I have no idea what he means. But his mention of deliberate sabotage certainly gets my attention.

“Leaks, honey, what do you mean? Konoe would _never_ do such a thing,” Dad intercedes on my behalf, but he is anxious to get back to his quail.

“Shui, you must be _blind_ not to see it. _Konoe_  isn't the one who has done those lessons, and Ribika herself only knows what else he has done that the new boy has cleaned up for him. Have you spoken to your daughter today?

“To Kagari? I have. Even she seemed quite taken with him!”

“And that didn’t seem, well, odd to you?”

I’m irritated that this is the _only_ time my parents set aside for _me_ , and they are talking about Kagari, Rai, and to each other—and not talking to _me_.

“Ahem. What about my dinner?!” After clearing my through, I interrupt in my loudest, snottiest voice.

“If you don’t like it, you shall have none and go to bed,” Dad says, much to my surprise, “for you have ruined mine!”

That was much harsher than I was expecting, and I blink in surprise. I was expecting my whipping boy to get it, I would humbly apologize and then humbly return to and finish my meal—I _also_ like quail quite a bit, and I was so busy pitching a fit and scheming that I didn’t eat! But looking around, I just now realize I don’t see the servants here to whip Rai. Will one of my fathers do it? Perhaps because he is a former prince he requires special treatment? What is going on?

“I apologize for our son’s behavior,” Papa says, speaking to Rai. “I’d say he’s acting out of character, but that would be a lie. There is bound to be a time when you will have to take a beating in his place, but it won’t be this time. Thank you for looking after him. You’ve done very well today.”

Rai tilts his head in a half-bow— _not_ like a servant in the least. His smugness and mightiness incense me! 

“Did you get enough to eat?” Dad asks Rai, solicitously, still ignoring me. “Please, help yourself and have some more in the kitchen if you’d like—I mean, once Konoe is in bed, of course. You look like you may require more sustenance than our boy.”

“What is the _meaning_ of this?!” I shout. “No one is paying me any attention!”

“We already gave you our verdict,” Papa says to me in a growl. Then, addressing Rai, “You’ll see him to his room and to bed, won’t you? As we discussed.”

To bed? I don’t need help getting to bed—especially not from the likes of this silver beast! And what the hell would my father have discussed with him, a mere servant?

Rai nods, and I watch my parents stride from the room. I’m stunned. Rai is looking at me with his arms crossed, a rather neutral look on his face. Then, he smirks. _Infuriating_!

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were deliberately trying to get me in trouble. Now, why would you do such a thing?”

“I-I w-wasn’t,” I lie, of course, but that’s because I’m left alone in a room with this huge stranger. I’ll never tell him the truth. He is frightening me, and I'm angry that I'm stammering again. 

“We’d best obey your parents, lest you get into worse trouble this evening, shouldn’t we? Come along.”

He pulls me by my arm, back toward my chamber. My castle is a maze, so I don’t know how he knows his way around already. Plus, he’s touching me again—as though that’s to be expected—like it’s his _job_ , and he’s so casual about it, it enrages me! And the strength of his grip in his hand alone is strangely powerful. It’s terrifying.

“Why on earth would you be deliberately trying to get in trouble, if not to see if they would whip me? Part of your generous welcome, perhaps?”

“Um, n-no,” I am stuttering again, nervous at having him drag me through my own castle. I am not used to being handled roughly. I notice the wooden floorboards look a little different as he pulls me across them—my slippers slide right over them even if I don’t move my feet. I’ve never really looked at them closely before. Possibly this is because I usually hold my chin up high when I strut through my castle. But now, my face is definitely lowered in fear.

I see a chance for escape as soon as we pass the gatehouse—the guards are on dinner break, it seems, and so the posted sentries are lighter than usual—and the drawbridge is down. I twist out of Rai’s grip and make a break for it—running for the drawbridge when we pass it. I am never allowed outside the castle under any circumstances—and _Rai_ is the one who let me go. I’m not sure he knows these rules, so I take the best chance I have to get him in trouble. Surely my parents will blame him for my escape!

I bolt past the sentries who scream at me to stop when I rush past, and Rai realizes what I’m up to and chases me down, tackling me on the drawbridge.

I scream when he lands on top of me—thinking he will crush me with that massive body of his—but he doesn’t. He pins me down, and then he actually _bites_ me—the back of my neck, right at my nape—underneath my hair. It does something weird to my body—paralyzing me. I’ve seen mothers do this with their children before. Perhaps the nurses did it to us when we were younger? But in any case, I cannot move. Even if he did it to make me still, it’s _awfully_ intimate. I feel him breathing on the back of my neck, growling low, striking terror into my heart and very vulnerable body. I squeeze my eyes closed fearfully. I will not cry in front of him, even if I am scared!

The sentries drag both of us back inside—and I am pleased, though it takes me a while to be able to walk again. Rai throws me over his shoulder to carry me, which is humiliating. But I’m still satisfied with myself. I _know_ I have succeeded when I find myself back in “the room.” Now the punishment will begin in earnest.

Only Papa is here now—so Dad can enjoy his quail. And I see the servant who beat my last whipping boy is here, too. I try to hide my delight.

“What were you _thinking_? You _know_ better—you know the rules! It’s _dangerous_ for you to leave the castle! You are _never_ allowed outside the castle walls—not even on the drawbridge! Going at dinner was particularly sneaky! I still think you were doing it just to see your new boy punished, but I don’t see a way around it now!” Papa is going to yell himself hoarse if he keeps this up.

At first, I argue, as I usually do, about how unfair life is for me at this castle. How will I rule if I never see my kingdom? I see Papa restrain himself from hitting me, telling me it’s _crazy_ to go outside at night, it isn’t safe, and blah, blah, blah. Then I lower my face and produce the required tears while Papa continues yelling about what a blessed life I live here and how fortunate I am—or else the wonderful, blissful punishment will _never_ start.

Finally, Rai is bent over a table—and they will use a cane on him today, it seems, and that pleases me. The servant asks if he needs to be restrained, and he shakes his head—little does _he_ know. Boy could hardly take the cane without servants on either side of him, holding his arms down. This will be the _perfect_ welcome and teach that silver mass of beast who is _really_ in charge at this castle! He’d best mind me from now on! 

I wonder if he has ever been caned before. If he is truly was the prince of Setsura, he probably hasn’t. I shiver with delight—and I’m a little surprised to see him watching me from my place next to my father. Did he see me shiver? It’s fine if he did—he should know I am glad to see him punished, finally. He _deserves_ this, for treating me so smugly and self-righteously today! I am to see his face when he is caned—that way, so the tradition goes, I will see and experience his pain and then feel such remorse and sorrow on his behalf that I will never repeat the crime, as my noble, sensitive nature dictates. Obviously, it hasn’t exactly worked in the past, and I see no reason that it will work now. I'm anxious for the beating to begin.

Papa orders ten strokes—over his breeches, to my chagrin, but that’s fine. This is his first of _many_ daily punishments, I suspect. The first stroke rings out very loud and incredible solidly—much more solidly than with Boy, whose ass made more of a slapping sound. I wonder if the sound difference is because Rai is so much more muscular than Boy was. I watch his face—which barely even flinches. And I am _shocked_ to see he meets my eyes—boldly, almost—those icy blue eyes glowing angrily. But he does not make a _single_ sound, much to my disappointment. I was hoping to see him shout or yell or better yet, shed a few tears, like Boy used to. The sound is so much more solid—the cane hitting a defined mass, and it rattles his body against the table, making him flinch more and more. Yet his eyes continue to meet mine as boldly as ever, and he continues in his utter silence, unnerving me, until the fifth blow.

Then a soft sigh falls from his lips, almost like a puff of air. That sound makes me shiver. It makes me feel _powerful_ —and something else: it makes blood pool in my groin and hips, as though _I_ am the one being caned, only it is not painful. Instead, it's strangely pleasant. Perhaps this is because he is so attractive, or so smug, and I am getting the best of him? And the sixth stroke has the same effect—and my eyes drop to his lips—and I wonder—just for a second—how those large plush lips felt against my skin. He did bite me earlier, after all. While the bite hurt, his lips were surprisingly soft. My hand raises up to the back of my neck for just a second when I remember. And I actually see Rai flash me a _smile_.

My body floods with heat—is it anger? Rage? Attraction?—when I see that smile just before the seventh blow. I drop my face in shame, and Papa yells at me to " _watch, damn it!"_  He yanks on my hair to pull my face back toward Rai, making tears burn in my eyes. I flinch and look up, and I see Rai smirking _still_ , even through the seventh and eighth blows, though that small puff of air comes out of his mouth again each time the cane strikes his ass. That sound, combined with the weighty sound of the blow of the cane—makes my fur bristle.

I feel terribly confused. I blink away the tears in my eyes while watching the ninth and tenth blows obediently. I feel strangely relieved when it’s over, which is _not_ what I was expecting. I was expecting to feel proud and satisfied—like I had put him in his place. But somehow his pride in taking that punishment with such dignity actually got the better of me. My body is trembling slightly. After Papa thanks him for his service, Papa grabs my arm, twisting my body toward him—like he often does since he can’t actually strike me—and takes my chin in his other hand, boring his fiery eyes into mine. I _really_ want to look away. Papa can be terrifying when he is angry. 

“I hope you have learned your lesson. He will be staying with you from now on. So you should treat him well—he has been better to you than you deserve.” 

“What?!” I am stunned. I don’t comprehend the words I am hearing— _staying_ with me??

“Help him to your room!”

I don’t _want_ to. I look over at all that lovely hair. While still tied back, it has spilled over his shoulders from the intensity of the blows to his body. The administer of the caning certainly didn’t hold back. I saw how much his body jolted! He is _still_ staring at me with those intense eyes—and I am afraid. I am _deathly_ afraid.

“Konoe! Do it _now_!” Papa is angry.

My body automatically moves over to the table where Rai is, and I help him stand up, and he pretends to lean on me—maybe he actually needs to lean on me—I don’t know since I’ve never been caned before. Maybe it really does hurt afterward? Rai is limping slightly when I lead him out of the room into the dark hallway. I want to get away from that room. That entire experience is creeping me out—but this giant cat is _still_ with me!

We use guiding lights in the halls because I don’t care for fire—I’m not exactly afraid of it—well, I _am_ , but I don’t admit it—and so it’s quite dim at night. I don’t see very well in the dark, but I know my way, and I walk as quickly as I can with this huge beast leaning on me.

My heart is still erratically thumping in my ears. I can smell the silver cat even better in the dark—he even smells older than me, if age has a scent—for sure, he can't be a boy of fifteen—he is much more experienced than me. And he will be _staying_ with me? In my room? _Where_? What are my parents _thinking_? I have no space for him, and I’m afraid he might _do_ something to me. 

And that scent—in his hair—slightly like vanilla—slightly fresher than vanilla, maybe mixed with freshly fallen rain or snow in the garden—it really smells good. It would be comforting if he wasn't scaring me so much. And I keep thinking of the sound that came out of his mouth and the sound of the cane on his ass. And as my mind is jumbled with the thoughts of how he smells and the sounds from the punishment, I feel something warm and wet on my ear, which very nearly makes me wet my pants in utter shock.

“What the _fuck_?!” The expletive explodes from my mouth as I flick down my ear against my skull, but that doesn’t help escape the attack from his tongue. He leans against me even more heavily, putting his hands on my head, pushing me up against the wall and pinning me there—just like he had me pinned outside in the ground, except he is facing me now—and he is just mauling my ear with his rather rough tongue and mouth. I even feel fangs grazing the thin skin of my ear!

“Ouch! Stop it! What are you doing?!”

“Be quiet,” he whispers harshly—and it’s so loud, his voice sinking deep into my ear—just like that quiet sound he was making earlier did. When his lips move, they tickle me—making my body quiver down to its core. His tongue now floods the depths of my ear, and the entire outer shell is in his mouth, being teased by his lips. I have _never_ been touched like this before—and I have no idea what to do. 

“Let me go!” These words come out of my mouth in a pathetic sounding whimper—because I am _really_ scared now. I don’t understand why my body is getting so heated from a simple touch to my ear when I just saw _him_ get that crap beat out of him for something _I_ did—it’s almost as if... he _enjoyed_ it? Or he enjoyed that I was watching him? And what am I supposed to do with my own body, getting so worked up over this? I _hate_ this feeling! I feel so out of control and manipulated! 

“That’s a little better, your voice is quieter—but perhaps we should take this upstairs,” he murmurs.

Upstairs?! To my room? _No_!!

Before he does anything else, I feel him press his hips against my body—and he is hard—and _holy shit_ —even harder than I am right now. My gods—he is so much bigger than me. I can tell even through his breeches. I feel him showing off deliberately, maybe trying to scare me, and _shit_! What are my parents _thinking_? I _can’t_ spend the night with this guy! What exactly did Papa mean by having him _stay_ with me? Why did Rai smirk at me like that—during that awful... and yes, it _was_ awful—experience? I can still hear that hard, dull slapping sound echoing in my ears. It was _such_ a disappointment—I usually enjoy watching punishments so much!

I’m _not_ moving from here, I decide—he can lick my ears all he wants. Going to my room would just make me even more vulnerable! Soon a servant will see him taking advantage of me and he will report him— 

No. They _won’t_ report him. _No one_ will report him. Because I’ve been so horrible to the staff, _no one_ is looking out for me!

While I’m trying to decide what to do, I suddenly lose my balance—Rai has picked me up off the floor and carries me up the stairs toward my chambers.

“Stop—wait,” I protest, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” Rai whispers, his lips still close to my ear. “I’m just doing what your parents told me to do. You should obey your parents, Konoe.”

He called me by my _name_ —not “Your Grace” or “Your Highness” or even “sir”! Not even “Prince Konoe”—just my _name_! I hate it—he is _so_ damned disrespectful! So... why does it make my fur ruffle and send shivers down my back?!

For now, even if I struggle, I can’t escape his strong arms, so I relax and let him carry me. I have no other choice. But he _needs_ to understand I can get him in trouble whenever I want! So why doesn’t he realize this? Why is he still acting so smug and so damned proud?! And my gods! What is going to happen to me once we get upstairs??

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Let me know if you feel sorry for Konoe yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter did NOT go as I had originally intended.
> 
> I hope it does not disappoint--but it came out way sweeter (maybe?) than I originally thought it would. It's switched to Rai's POV.
> 
> Trigger warnings: mentions of sex--a lot of mentions of sex. OK, so he thinks Konoe is cute. And non-con touching, non-con grooming, and serious intimidation.

It isn’t till I get Prince Brat back to his chambers that I’ve _finally_ made up my mind what to do with him. I’ve got a significant conflict.

What I _want_ to do to him and what I’m _going_ to do with him—those are two very different things. This is my first night here, after all. And also, there’s the main question: how much am I going to be able to get away with?

What I want to do with him: I’d _love_ to give him a taste of his own medicine—the silly no-striking-the-royal-person rule be damned. I heard well and good what his fathers said to me at my introductory session, and I’m aware of what my role is here—but my gods, I had no _idea_ what a handful he was going to be! Yeah, it helps that he’s nice to look at, and it helps that he’s not nearly as quick-witted as he believes himself to be. But how the _fuck_ am I supposed to deal with that attitude of his unless I put down a firm boundary, and the sooner the better?

The exact form of the taste of his own medicine would take is another matter. Oh, I’m not sure I’d start with a cane right off the bat; though there is something lovely about the old Two-Cane saying, “an eye for an eye.” But I saw—and am currently rather liberally feeling up—his round, incredibly soft little ass, and there is no _way_ he would take that well. What I think he needs—and I would prefer—is a good old-fashioned over-the-knee spanking. He’s _never_ had one, and it would be my perfect little welcome gift to _him_ , just like the one he so carefully prepared for me.

Since I don’t really want to scare him, it looks like that is going to stay a fantasy—at least for now. However, it looks like I’ve already started down that road. But holy hell—his parents have  _no_ idea exactly how much trouble their precious little boy is—especially not King Shui. King Leaks is pretty wise to it, but his hands are tied. I think he realized that bringing me on board will give them some options they didn’t have before. I wish I’d known what questions to ask before I got here—like, specifically, what am I allowed to do. 

But fuck! I knew the brat was setting me up—I just didn’t know it was because he actually is a _sadist_. Or—and this is my _true_ suspicion—their precious baby boy is a _masochist_ who hasn’t been able to experience any pain of his own—yet. And I’m  _dying_ to give him his first taste! Even threatening him might be enough.

Because the look in his eyes when I was bent over that table could not be described as anything other than hungry. He was _devouring_ me—and my experience in that place that crazy family fondly calls “the room.” I couldn’t even tell what side of that damned cane he wanted to be on!

To test my suspicions, I teased him, just a little in the dim light of the halls—and possibly yes, also because he’s fucking adorable, despite that bratty behavior. But by the gods, it’s a _damn_ good thing he’s as cute as he is because if he weren’t, he would _not_ be alive today! His attitude and behavior are too much! No one would be able to stomach him!

In fact, I suspect what actually happened to the last boy and what they told him are two different stories. My suspicion is that Setsura happened to fall at just the right time, and I was available and the right age. King Leaks met me, was impressed by my manners and my looks, and hoped I’d be able to get his son in shape.

He also said he hoped I’d “see Prince Konoe through his first season.” I saw his picture, and of course, I thought he was attractive. I couldn't resist the offer, actually—seduce the sorcerer's son in exchange for a boost in my own country's status? It's a no-brainer. The small painting he carries with him didn’t do the prince justice, either—not even considering our first meeting was in the princess’s chambers, and he was pissed and angry—not even his scowl about having his prank foiled could hide his adorable face and his cute, oversized ears.

But I wasn’t only looking at his face. And I’m not thinking about it now, either. He’s got the world’s most _perfect_ ass—which I knew to look for when one of my servants told me he had a nice shape, who heard it from one of the king’s servants—and that was only _after_ it was already decided I would serve here.

That is basically the main _plus_ of my stay here, I figure. That—and, well, as I said, if I can get him to fall for me, I _may_ have a chance to save my kingdom, or at least do some good for my people—which is how King Leaks presented the matter to me. What I _didn’t_ know was this is pretty much an impossible task from the start, if the goal is to improve the prince's behavior. 

Well—I’m pretty sure I can get him to fall for me. I _saw_ how he was eating me up with his eyes not fifteen minutes ago, as my own burning ass is reminding me—speaking of perfect asses. And when I have _ever_ backed down from a challenge?

How in the hell is this no-striking rule still applicable in this situation? Setsura is a traditional country, too, but my parents had no qualms about beating me to keep me in line, submissive, and obedient. I was younger, of course— _much_ younger—in fact, my ass probably hasn’t seen a cane in about seven years, since I was ten—but my parents, instructors, and tutors felt free to strike “my royal person” whenever they deemed reasonable, and even, in my young eyes, it seemed, to alleviate their own stress.

I don’t think beating the shit out of a kitten’s tail when your kingdom is going to hell in a handbasket is ever a good way to resolve your problems. In fact, should I ever have children in my care, I think I’ll do everything I can to _never_ raise a hand to them. However—no discipline or attention makes children suffer, as this prince’s behavior surely shows.

And that makes me think—perhaps what Konoe wants, more than anything is _attention_.

I think lack of attention is his primary problem, and what is making his behavior problems all the worse.

So, to start, I think, at least tonight—our _first_ night together—he shall have more of my attention than he knows what to do with, and we will go from there. 

This is my thought process as I carry the soft kitten back to his chambers. I feel him trembling slightly, and when I lick his ear now and then, the slightly salty taste sweat covers my tongue. His scent, sweet honey laced with just a gentle touch of sticky summer blossoms, like honeysuckle or jasmine, grazes my nose. It’s an almost feminine scent, and at first, I think it’s perfume. However, the more nervous he gets, the stronger it becomes—so this must be his scent. How odd—but perfectly fitting for such a sweet-looking creature.

It pisses me off all the more that his attitude doesn’t fit how he tastes, looks, _or_ smells. Shit—even his voice sounds nice, and his body has the perfect amount of soft, springy texture—oh yes, I’m feeling him up while I’m carrying him, just because I can.

So what the _fuck_ is with this attitude? What fifteen-year-old pitches a fit of that caliber about his _dinner_? How ridiculous!

He doesn’t dare complain about my wandering hands him till we get to his chambers, though. Perhaps he’s embarrassed—which makes him even cuter, really. 

“Get your paws off me, you oaf! You’re my _servant_! You have no right—”

“Oh, I have the _right_ ,” I growl, pinning him firmly to a chaise—it’s plush and soft, and his lithe little body sinks right in. “Not only the right but the _responsibility_. Didn’t you hear your parents?”

“Huh?” A little gasp falls from his sweet, full lips. Damn, I bet his breath even tastes nice. Fuck—how far away is the mating season again? It can’t be longer than a week or two, can it? That’s why the king was in such a rush, hoping to get him compatible with someone who’d be willing to put up with his shit. Gods, I hope I can last that long.

And I’m _willing_. I realize now—especially after that beating—it’s _got_ to be how he was looking at me since I’m don’t recall being into pain before. (Not that there's anything wrong with that. I could be into that. _Especially_ if I weren't on the receiving end.) And I’m not _only_ willing for the sake of my kingdom.

“They d-didn’t s-say—” he stammers.

“They _did,_ ” I continue my growling because it’s making his fur fluff out in such an endearing way, gods damn it all. “I believe their exact words were, _see you to your room and to bed_. And you were to _help me here_ , as I’ll be _staying with you, from here on._ ”

“I-i-i d-don’t require your h-help,” Konoe stutters desperately, his commanding tone disappearing under my intimidation.

I can’t help watching those lips move in the dim light of the room, wondering what his lips might feel like against mine—and why the fuck _is_ it so damned dark in here? I’d like it brighter so I can admire him a bit more. I noticed it in the halls, too—no fire—all guiding leaves. Weird.

“Unfortunately, no one asked your opinion,” I say. “Don’t worry. I know your _secret_.”

“S-secret?” he echoes—gods, now he sounds absolutely terrified. I am starting to feel sorry for him—just a little. Or I _would_ if my ass didn’t still sting so much! Gods, I'd forgotten how much the cane hurts!

“I know you’re  _dying_ for _attention_. And lucky you. I’m here for you now. I’ll be giving you _more_ attention than you know what to do with!” 

“Wh-what? Attention? Uh—n-no!” More cute stammering from those full lips.

“Have no fear,” I stop my growl, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I’ll be _gentle_ with you.”

To which the poor kitten fluffs out his plush, short, and thick fur broadly—his tail doubles in size, his ears nearly triple—sweet Ribika—he’s so pretty! And I have to cover my mouth to hide my smile.

Then, I don’t. I let him see my grin, and he actually _growls_ at me.

“You can’t _touch_ me!” His stammer suddenly gone, he hisses at me boldly, showing off perfectly straight, pearl white, petite fangs. I feel the urge to lick them, but I'd better save that for another time. “I’m the _prince_ and you’re just a _servant_!” 

“A servant who's been given a _job_ ,” I reply, and I figure I’ll start boldly. I swiftly unbuckle his belt, making those giant batwing ears flatten against his skull. “Damn, why is it so dark in here? Haven’t you discovered fire in this part of the country yet?”

“Fuck _you_!” Konoe snarls, and with those words alone—well, and his tone—I realize this kitten is _afraid_ of fire. _Interesting_. Fuel for later, I think. My parents would _never_ have changed the castle for my sake, however. Father would have called such fear on my part a weakness and beat it out of me, I’m sure. Prince Brat certainly _is_ indulged here, that's for sure.

I snap his belt loudly when I pull it off his waist—and the sound scares the shit out of the young prince. It doesn’t occur to me till later that he has probably witnessed quite a few punishments with a belt—and I may be in for one later, myself—and he is absolutely  _cowering_ before me when he definitely _wasn’t_ before.

In all honesty, I’ve never been around smaller breeds of cat. Setsura is known for large breeds, and I'm about average, many cats were taller than me, in fact. It’s part of the reason I find him so damned adorable, I suppose. On the other hand, he is not familiar with cats my size, either, nor is he at all used to rough handling. Or perhaps _any_ handling at all, except from his parents. So I may be intimidating him without really intending to. 

Well, I should cut the bullshit. I _do_ intend to intimidate—just a _little_. But as I’m stripping off his clothes in a fast businesslike fashion—I am preparing him for bed, after all—his shoes, silk breeches and stockings, then his vest, that pretty cravat, and silk blouse—leaving him shivering in his underwear—he is literally close tears. And that was _not_ my intent. I meant to intimidate, but not to bring him to tears.

The sudden tears surprise me—no, they shock me. And they confuse me. I’m not quite sure what to do. So I try to imagine what might be going through his head and respond in a way that would comfort me, were I in his position. I never do this, so I don't know if this will work.

“Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m only doing as your parents asked.”

My words have no effect. None whatsoever. He just looks up at me, those gorgeous honey orbs swimming with tears, threatening to spill over. He looks rather fetching like this—and terribly, adorably sweet. Enticing, actually. I feel a twinge of guilt.

“So, do you bathe before bed? Or in the mornings?” I'm trying to sound natural.

A small little sound hitches in his chest before he speaks—for a split second, I think this teenage boy is going to shamelessly start crying in front of me. But he keeps it together.

“In the morning.”

“Good boy,” I say, and to my shock—he smiles at me. That cute little face lights up in a genuine smile! I can’t believe it! I’m _so_ relieved that he isn’t bawling—and a funny, warm sensation spreads through my chest. It must just be desire or lust, I think—but it’s never felt like this before. Is it relief? Whatever. “All right. Go climb in bed, then.”

He obeys without questioning me—also to my surprise. And damn, only one bed means I’ll be sharing his. We do this in Setsura in the winter months—but it’s autumn here. I strip out of my clothes—down to my underwear as well, laying out his clothes on the chaise.

I turn toward the bed and find his soft eyes following me closely. As soon as I look, though, those dark lashes lower. It’s a rather flirty mannerism—much coyer than he is aware, I’m sure. But he looks up nervously when he hears me approach the bed. 

“Scoot over,” I say. I don’t give him a chance to comply, though. I just move his body over from where he was lying in the center of the bed. “I mean, where did you think I was going to sleep?”

“Y-you c-can’t b-be in h-here w-with m-me!” His voice is stammering softly—in a quiet whimper—not belligerent like it was before. It’s very sweet.

“Certainly you don’t expect me to sleep on the floor?” I ask, taking up my usual spot in the center of the bed—I won’t fit anywhere else on this bed, quite frankly. Then, I pull his smaller body up against mine, his back against my chest—he’s already warm and he still smells sticky sweet. I can tell he does _not_ appreciate my cold hands or feet brushing up against his arms and legs. “Don’t you remember what I told you about your secret?”

“Wh-what secret?” He is ducking is head cutely as I beginning grooming his ears.

“You know which one,” I purr low in the ear I’m licking gently—and these are nice gentle, strokes, unlike the aggressive ones I was applying to him in the hallway. It doesn’t seem to matter, though. He’s shivering in my arms like crazy—almost as if no one has ever touched him like this before. Come on—he has a _sibling_ , for crying out loud! “Your secret about why you behave the way you do—and that it’s all for _attention_.” 

The ear in my mouth fluffs out delightfully—and I confess—just for a second, I let my hands wander. I mean—I promised him _attention_ , didn’t I? Plus I’m supposed to make sure we are compatible next week. This is a surefire sneaky way to do it—but he’s just so... available. I’m careful to keep my hand on his waistline, on his side. I’m pretty sure I _know_ what I’d feel if I slipped my hand forward to his front. And well, if I slipped it backward, his cute little butt is currently tucked nice and snug against my own hips. He can go ahead and feel what my opinion of him is, for all I care. I think he’s attractive—when he’s mellow, at least.

Really—since I snapped that belt, he’s been a different cat. 

This pretty much confirms my suspicion. I think he _longs_ for touch. Maybe he’s lonely—he craves touch of _any_ kind—and that yearning gaze he gave me while I was being caned—shit, I _cannot_ afford to think about that right now—not good—I’ll scare him even more—was because he just wants to be touched? That makes me feel a little sad, actually.

But damn—feeling him snuggled up next to me—and gods, purring so loud—this round, soft ass right here in front of me... I wonder if he wishes _he_ were the one being spanked. And what if I could be the one doing it?

As I groom him, returning his purr with my own deeper one, I keep my hand resting on his hip, fantasizing about this, just letting my thoughts wander. Distractingly, his tail moves a lot, even as I feel the rest of his body settling down. I can’t tell if he’s actually relaxing or forcing himself to relax. I mean—Ribika can’t purr unless they are relaxed, so he must be somewhat, even if he still nervous. But I do wonder what is going through his head, those ears still twitching slightly, his body shivering now and then.

I find myself rather curious about that tail—and it too is right here. Didn’t I promise him attention? I run my claws through the soft fur—it stays relaxed—at least till I pop the crooked tip into my mouth. Then, the fur bristles again, filling up my mouth like his ear did earlier.

It’s possible I’m not grooming him in exactly the way he might groom himself. I might be doing things with a little more care than he might—taking my time and being gentle about it. And the thought that no one has ever groomed him like this is strangely attractive—just like licking his ears in the hallway really got me going earlier. Plus those soft little sighs he was making most certainly didn’t help matters—they make my fur stand on end—and I realize he’s doing it again—only it’s mixed with a purr and humming sound now, too. 

It’s _almost_ a protest—a begging sound—a plea—but I don’t know if he wants more or less. I’ll assume _more_ attention, since that what I said I’d provide. And technically, I’m still putting him to bed. I'm only doing what his parents asked me to, after all.

Just listening to the sound of his voice, though—I can’t _believe_ this is the same cat who threw that obnoxious fit in the dining room about his dinner. He has such a soothing voice there's almost something magical about it—a soothing smell, a soothing purr—at least when he wants it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone feeling sorry for Konoe yet?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Brat sleeps better than he has since he can remember, but awkwardness raises its head when his new boy wakes and expects to share breakfast the next morning. Konoe is embarrassed and distracted, too much so to bawl out his staff like usual.
> 
> Rai drags him off to lessons, which go about like one might expect for a student who hasn’t studied in weeks. Slowly but surely fast than our spoiled prince expects, something is changing inside him.

I sleep more soundly than I have in years. I wake feeling refreshed, late morning, warm, with of sheets smelling of fresh rain and sweet vanilla. Uwaa! It’s _his_ smell—the smell of the silver cat!

When I wake, my new whipping boy is already risen, bathed, and dressed. Rays from the moon of light are pouring in through the window, and a kitchen servant (whoever has drawn the short straw) has brought in breakfast—and I realize there are servings for _two_  on my tray. 

Do they expect Rai to break bread with me? That’s _ridiculous_. I don’t care what my parents have decided on my behalf. I’m _not_ on par with a servant, no matter if he used to be a prince in his former and now conquered kingdom. I may have slept well because he felt nice and warm, but that’s _all_. 

I snuggle back under my blanket, this time spreading out in the bed and taking up my share of space—that silver cat took up way more than half the bed!—tucking my face back underneath, letting only the tips of my ears poke out. My room gets chilly in here in the early fall, especially since I don’t enjoy fire. I try to avoid lighting the fireplace for as long as possible. And with my new servant from Setsura, I’m thankful that means I’ll be able to sleep a little longer without lighting the fireplace at night. The crackling sound keeps me awake and makes me nervous. 

“You have work to do,” a low voice whispers in my ear. It makes my skin tingle, and my ear twitches away from his lips, almost as though my ear itself remembers being softly groomed. It irritates me, but he can call forth a response from my body without my consent. I can’t seem to keep my cool around him! “The morning light is still upon you—don’t waste the day in bed—well, unless you’d like me to teach you exactly what goes on under the sheets. But I’m not sure you’re ready for that yet.”

I gasp at his lewd suggestion and sit up suddenly, meeting his smirking face and realizing I’m still dressed in just my underwear. He is sitting much closer than I expect—but fuck him—this is my chamber! I’m tempted to upbraid him for his vulgarity—he cannot talk to the crown prince of Sisa in this disrespectful manner!

“You can’t talk to me like that in my own chamber! I’m the crown prince of Sisa!”

“And yet, I just did,” Rai says, his pale blue eyes sparkling, his lips forming into a full smile, displaying two perfect rows of white teeth.

I don’t care if I am sitting here in my underwear! I don’t take shit from anyone! 

“Take it back!” I snap, realizing after the words leave my mouth exactly how immature they sound. I sound like the spoiled child he’s accused me of being!

Rai laughs. “Or what?” He’s provoking me, and I know it, but I cannot help myself. “Or what? You’re going to make my life a living hell? Aren’t you already doing that to your best ability?” He sits down on the bed next to me, making the difference in our heights even more obvious. I have noticed he does this when he wants to intimidate me into complying with his command. But it’s _not_ going to work this time. He lowers his voice as he is sitting close to me. “How do you feel it’s going? Was I punished enough for all your pranks yesterday? Did it go just as you’d planned and hoped?” 

I also notice that the lower and softer his voice is, the scarier he sounds. He should be respecting me, not rebelling against my authority. My body trembles slightly—especially since he brought up that punishment. The memory of it flashes through my mind—and my response to it—how I shivered when he met my eyes with every blow to his hindquarters, only flinching and barely making any noise—just that soft puff of breath that tickled the hair on my nape and makes me shiver even now. 

“Here’s what I think, Your Highness,” he is still speaking low and calm, but he sneers my title slightly. He also pulls my body a little closer to his, keeping me under the covers, but I’m touching him now, underneath the blanket. It feels so inappropriate! “I saw you watching yesterday. And I think you are _not_ learning from the punishments like your parents want you to. I think—more than _anything_ in this world—you yearn to be on the receiving side of the cane.” 

A gasp escapes my mouth. My ears and cheeks flood with their deepest pink shade when I hear those words—and worse, the hand at the base of my tail starts stroking me. I remember he did the same thing when he first attacked me in the hallway last night. It sends another shiver both down my tail and up into my back and shoulders—and it is partly fear and partly something that is not fear—something that feels much more exposing—raw, naked desire.

He doesn’t know me! He’s been here less than 24 hours—but no—that isn’t it! It can’t be! I don’t want to be _spanked_! That’s... dirty.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, my voice shaking pathetically—and I’m truly ashamed at how weak I sound in my conviction. I meant to snap my words, rebuke him thoroughly and put him in his place, but having his hands on me is distracting. So... why don’t I push him away? Why won’t I? Do I actually enjoy his touch? 

“Even now, you _long_ for someone to touch you. It’s probably why you aren’t trying to push my hands away now, isn’t it?” Rai whispers softly, his lips brushing my ear, making the tip quiver, and a lewd-sounding sigh escapes. “It’s natural, to some degree, to want to be touched, at your age. But perhaps not having been disciplined has made you even more eager and somewhat jealous.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I repeat, also not very convincing.

“So tell me, does the same no-touching-the-royal-person rule also apply to the princess? Or is only the prince? Or only the crown prince?”

“Um, it’s only the crown prince, since I will be king one day,” I reply easily. When we shared a nursery, I would cause all sorts of trouble for her so I could watch her be punished. She was easy for me to provoke, after all. I could easily provoke her into hitting me—even without touching her, in fact. The nurses would take it easy on her, of course, since she is just a girl, and younger than me.

“Interesting. Yet—if something were to happen to the crown prince, wouldn’t your sister rule in your place?” Rai asks.

“How _dare_ you!” Narrowing my eyes, I do manage to snap at him this time. It’s not okay to talk about something happening to me in such a casual way!

“I’m just saying—wouldn’t her nurse have hit ‘the royal person’?” Rai asks. 

I look up, suddenly realizing what he’s been saying. It’s true, I suppose, but it’s weird. I guess that makes sense. Why is it that only the crown prince follows this rule? But I can’t really think of a reason. Instead, I just feel upset. I don’t want to discuss this anymore.

“Fetch me my warm robe,” I order. 

“Fetch my you your robe _what_?” he asks.

I glare at him, holding the covers up to my chest like some sort of prim maiden. I’m truly embarrassed to expose myself in front of him. Why? Is it because his body is so different from mine? He’s tall where I am short, broad where I am slim, and muscular where I am soft. Am I _actually_ attracted to him? I’ve never really remembered feeling quite like this before, so what exactly is different? Is something changing within me?

“What?” I ask, confused. I’m unsure what he wants from me. 

“If you want me to work with you, you need to be more polite. I can’t deal with this attitude of yours. So ask nicely. Start by saying please and thank you. That is what true  nobility does.”

“Hmph. Fetch me my robe, please,” I say. “The warm one, if you don’t mind.”

He nods and smiles in satisfaction and brings it to me. He even helps me into it—and I can’t help noticing his wandering hands when he helps me into it. He must just be teasing me—that’s surely what last night was about, too—teasing me, since he has more experience than I do. He is older, after all. He’s traveled far from home and I’ve never left the castle. And he knew how to make me feel like I felt last night... 

I remember last night well. He stripped off my clothes, surely—but what I remember most was the sound my belt made—no, the loud, _deliberate_ crack of my belt, when he pulled it from my waist and snapped it in the air. I couldn’t help imagining what that might feel like against my skin. It sounded so dangerous and painful—that sound. It was so frightening and yet tempting at the same time. If I’m honest, I really _liked_ having him touch me yesterday—grooming me roughly in the hallway, taking me forcefully, licking my ears and then being so deliberately gentle after tucking me in bed. I can’t remember ever having been cared for like he did—touching me so much and so carefully—but I must have been, at least, when I was too young to do it myself. I did have parents who used to spoil me with attention, didn’t I? I want him to share my bed tonight again, too. Gods, why am I thinking about it now?

I just now realized—as I’m licking my lips, kitchen service is here, serving tea and breakfast. The staff is, of course,giving me a mighty strange look. Partly perhaps because I haven’t complained about my breakfast yet. Truthfully, I’m a little ashamed to do so in front of the elegant silver cat. I’m afraid he won’t want to be around me if I perform as usual. So I pull myself together and I thank the staff for his service.

The server drops Rai’s teacup in surprise, and Rai catches it, mid-air. Not even a single drop spills! Damn, his reflexes are good! Is he really a prince? He can’t be, with those reflexes. I’ve never seen a cat move like that! 

Also, I notice him narrowing his eyes as if daring me to berate the servant in front of him. But I don’t say a word. In fact, I simply thank him for the delicious food and the kind service. I’m given another suspicious look by my servant, who is not used to being complimented by me. 

“Get dressed,” Rai orders, once the server leaves.

Certainly, I’m not used to being ordered around by anyone. I give Rai a sharp look. I am finished with my breakfast, however, so I don’t have any real reason to protest.

“I was thinking of going back to bed,” I say. “Do you have something planned for today?” 

“Your lessons, first, and then we need to see the princess,” Rai says. “You’ve slept away most of the morning.” 

I sigh, walking to my closet. I used to have the staff to dress me, but I frightened them off long ago. Now I choose my own clothes and dress myself. 

Dressing in my wardrobe—mostly to keep my body hidden from Rai—I come back to comb my hair. It’s unruly—like always.

I sit down at the vanity and attack it with a brush when silver hair fills up the reflection behind me. I flinch, and Rai gently takes the brush from my hands.

“Allow me, Your Grace.”

I’m slightly afraid, but I don’t have much of a choice. He gently detangles my hair, starting at the ends and working to the roots. He doesn’t pull at all. It’s a hypnotizing touch—and I feel almost drowsy by the time he is finished. He styles my hair in a simple braid to keep it neat and out of the way.

“There we go. Let’s head to the classroom,” he says.

“Okay,” I say, surprised by own compliance. 

My instructor is shocked to see me—though he recognizes Rai from yesterday. I remember Papa said he was surprised that I’d done my lessons this week—so Rai must have caught me up.

However, when I am quizzed—my tutor’s first item in the to-do list for today—I don’t do well. And my instructor is upset. Although—he shouldn’t be surprised. He knew Rai did my work for me.

“You have done terribly, sire. I will rap your new boy’s knuckles for every answer you got wrong.” 

“Ah—no—Wait!” I say. “That’s not right!” I protest. “You should ask _him_ the questions! Yes, ask him and if he gets the answers correct, then you should spare him the punishment!” 

“Sire, that defeats the purpose. He is _your_ whipping boy, and this is your education.”

Rai holds out his hands, but this _really_ isn’t right. I feel something is terribly wrong. I haven’t seen my tutor in weeks, and the first time I see him he gives me a quiz!? Of course, I’d do poorly. This is wrong—very wrong.

“Wait!” I exclaim. 

Rai looks at me, slightly puzzled. I stand up in my chair and he rests his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back to my seat.

“This is my job, sire. It’s fine.”

“No, this is wrong! I haven’t been here in months. I was set up to fail!” I protest. I know this is _wrong_. But I’ve had a whipping boy taking my punishments for many years—over a decade—so why do I just now realize how wrong this is?! What is wrong with me that it’s taken so long to figure out the ethics of this situation, and what awful stuff does that say about me? I feel tears burning my eyes.

“Is it so very different from yesterday?” Rai murmurs, low in my ears. “Please. Sit.” 

“This isn’t _right_!” I repeat. Then I address my tutor. “Really—this is ridiculous!” Part of me wants to stand in front of Rai and hold out my hands instead. But my tutor is having none of my protests and is ignoring my change of heart—even though this is a big turning point for me. 

“You know as well as I do the consequences for your actions, Prince. You should have shown up to class before now, or at least studied on your own.” 

“I _won’t_ be a part of this! This is unfair! You _cannot_ make me watch!” I sound childish, yes—and I know it’s too late now. But I don’t want to watch this! I close my eyes and bury my face in my hands.

“I’m sorry to do this, Your Grace, but you _must_ watch. Servants—I require assistance!”

Several servants come up right away and peel me off the desk, forcing my head toward Rai, who briefly shakes his long mane of silver hair. It’s slightly comforting, actually. Rai bravely holds out his hands, while the instructor whacks the backs of his knuckles—over and over again—once for every answer I didn’t know. I am yelling at the instructor to stop— _please_ _stop_!—and am weeping real tears, much to my own confusion, by the time he is finally finished.

I don’t know how I will be able to learn any kind of lesson now! I’m a disaster! My vision is blurred with tears, but I know the wrong person was punished—and I feel sick to my stomach because this is exactly the _opposite_ of how my feelings have been toward my whipping boy in the past. I don’t understand what changed. My chest thorns painfully.

“Prince Konoe, it’s important you learn to do your own work. While you will have advisors when you take the throne, you will want to know how the world works on your own merits. How else will you know which advisors you can trust and which you can’t? So learn your lessons well,” the tutor preaches pompously. I know just as well as he does he was punishing me for not having shown up for the last few weeks of classes. “Go ahead and research the correct answers to this exam on your own. Rai can help you, but I will need your reference materials, too.” The tutor wanders into the library stacks—the most plentiful in all the kingdom—to research his own paper.

I hear the staff whisper among themselves, over my tears, though Rai has kept a perfectly straight face—he barely even flinched—watching me carefully. His knuckles are bright red—and they look terribly painful, but he looks unfazed. I still feel terrible. He is in pain because of _me_!

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen the prince cry when the boy was punished! What has changed? Do you know? Is it because the new boy is so handsome and stoic?”

“I’ve no idea, but something is different—I heard he didn’t yell at his staff this morning, either!”

“I heard the boy is supposed to be bonding with him. Perhaps the prince been lonely all this time? Who knows? He’s only wanted a friend?”

I don’t care even care about their disrespectful whispers and gossip. I don’t know what to do. Rai’s pale skin on his hands is now bright red, spreading from his knuckles down his arms and into the palms of his hands and fingers, too—and that’s _all_ my fault! 

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. He must hate me now, and I am devastated. 

“Don’t worry about it. The important thing is that you’re here today. Let’s work on your assignment, find the solutions to those incorrect answers, and have you practice some of your lessons, then, hmm?” Rai’s low voice murmurs in my ear—he speaks in a friendly way, gently, like he isn’t even angry with me. He actually embraces me—no one even needed to hold him in place for the punishment, in fact. Only I needed to be restrained. He should be furious, shouldn’t he? He was punished for my failure. This was embarrassing on so many levels—and worse! Why is he being so kind to me? 

“All right—show me,” I reply. Then I lower my voice and look down when I ask, “But aren’t you angry with me?”

“No—I’m proud of your progress,” the silver cat says, smiling.

Picking up his right hand sneakily, which is much redder than the left, I lick his knuckles, tenderly and gently, while the instructor is in the library stacks. It should be fine for me to tend to his wounds, shouldn’t it? Especially if this was my fault?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again. 

“Oy,” he whispers in surprise, “this is not conducive to the learning plan for today.” But my ear is kissed—well, licked lightly—in return, and we go through each answer on the test, one by one.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai insists that Konoe make up for the prank with his sister. It doesn't go as Konoe hopes, and he suffers from jealousy.

I make it through the day’s lessons, and with Rai’s help, he catches me up quite a bit. With someone close to my age to talk to, I don’t find the work nearly so tedious, and I even enjoy some of it. The morning passes peacefully—without further punishment instigated by me—and I feel different. I feel lighter, and I enjoy his sometimes gruff attention. Perhaps I _was_ just lonely. 

Everything goes smoothly until lunch when Rai suggests we visit the princess instead of taking lunch in my own quarters.

“Why would I want to see Kagari?” I bristle at the thought. She is the one who is lathered with attention—my parents are already finding potential suitors for her. And then I take another good look at my new boy.

He’s amazingly handsome—with impossibly perfect long hair and long white fur that even _I_ am tempted to groom, and he has fetching pale blue eyes that have a lovely sparkle—especially when he smiles, and he shows those rather frightening long fangs, perfectly white like his fur. His smile lights up his entire face. I find myself rather attracted to him, wanting to make him smile more.

I like that he stands up for himself and carries himself like a prince—even though he may not be one right now. As far as I know, this is some sort of punishment or hostage situation for him. 

But all that aside—I realize my sister probably notices all these same things, too. I hope she isn’t looking at the firm, sculpted shape of his chest, muscular legs, and gorgeous ass. As she is a year and a half younger than me, she’s _much_ too young to think of such things.

“You have a sibling in your life for such a short time—especially sisters. She will be gone, married into a new kingdom soon enough, and you’ll rarely see her. Missing each other—having warm family feelings toward each other—is what keeps these foreign marriages strategic for both of your countries. If you have tender feelings toward each other, her new king or queen will likely feel the same for you and your kingdom.”

“You’re saying I need to _like_ her?” I ask suddenly.

“Yes. That is what we are going to do. You already _do_ like her—in fact, weren’t you upset when you found me in a room with her—alone—yesterday?”

I pause for a moment.

“Was I?” I do remember feeling something—like jealousy—but perhaps it _was_ the start of protecting her and her honor. Why would I be jealous of her attention to Rai? He's  _my_ boy.

“I believe you were going to fetch the guards to throw me in the dungeon,” Rai teases.

I am ashamed of my behavior yesterday, and I can't reply to that.

“And it’s the perfect time to tell her you will be replacing her doll.”

“I will _what_?” I am stunned.

“We will request permission from your father to take you into the city—in disguise, of course. You will be quite safe under my care. We will tell them where we are going in advance, as well. And we will choose a new doll for her—plus, you will get to see your kingdom,” Rai says.

How did he know I want to escape so much? I'm so sick of being stuck in this castle, day in and day out. And combining an outing like this with an apology is clever. He knows I won’t be able to turn him down. However—I’m pretty sure my parents won’t allow me to leave the castle. And I say as much.

“It sounds like a fine idea—I should very much like to go—but I’m sure my parents won’t permit it.” 

“Well, I could ask for educational purposes, or perhaps,” he looks at me closely, “one of us would just pay severe consequences upon our return.”

“You’d go against my fathers’ wishes? He would punish you!” I am stunned. He’s like a champion. I’ve never had a champion on my side before. It feels quite good, but at the same time, I’m hesitating more about sharing him with my sister. 

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” Rai answers, as he nods at the sentry posted at Kagari’s room.

“Prince Konoe and Prince Rai have arrived, Kagari.”

“Ah—just in time for lunch!” she says brightly, coming right up to Rai and taking his hand, leading him to the nicest chair she has. I try not to think about her thoughts for him—or worse, if he looks at Kagari and thinks he’d have been better suited to guard a princess rather a prince like me. “Do you mind if I brush your hair a little after lunch?” 

Keeping his regal exterior, Rai shows little emotion when he answers, “You may do as you like—we are your guests after all. More importantly, your brother has something he’d like to say to you.” 

I _do_? Kagari flashes her eyes at me expectantly, pout on her face. Oh. Right. Her doll. Also, if I bring it up, perhaps she will stop fawning over my new boy. 

“Sister, I am sorry I broke your doll yesterday. It was wrong of me. I will replace it with a new one. Please forgive me.” I try to keep my tone even, but really, I want her to stop eyeing Rai so intensely.

“Oh, thanks, Konoe. That’s all right. You’ve already given me something much better. I don’t really need a new doll.”

Upon reflex, my fur bristles when I hear her referring to _my_ new servant as something better than her doll. My fangs bare, and Rai puts his hand on my leg under the table, startling me. 

“Well, he’s so handsome,” Kagari continues, looking between Rai and me—deliberately trying to provoke me. “I’m sure you agree. I heard he’s actually staying with you, brother. I hope you’re not making him sleep on the floor. It’s far too cold for that.” She eyes Rai directly, batting her lashes. “If he makes you take the floor, don’t tolerate it. Come see me. I’ll keep you warm.”

“Kagari!” I snap, feeling the blood rise in my ears and cheeks. “You’re too young to make such an offer—and it’s unbecoming of your modesty!”

“Aw, Konoe. I know what my purpose is. The question is—do you know _yours_? Why has Father gone through all this trouble to find this prince for you? Or… is he really for _me_?” She laughs softly as I irritatedly ruffle my fur.

“Don’t talk about him that way!” I repeat my admonition. “You are a princess, and you should be chaste in your words and thoughts as well as your body!” 

“Oh? Are you feeling protective of me, Konoe? Or is this something different? Perhaps you are _jealous_.” She laughs again, taking a sip of her tea.

No one can irritate me the way Kagari can. She knows all the right buttons to press. 

“Anyway,” she goes on, “how would you be able to get me a new doll? I know as well as you that you’re not allowed out of the castle. But I also know why. It isn’t just for your safety.”

“What?” I ask, stunned. “What are you talking about?” 

“It’s because your attitude and behavior are an _embarrassment_ to the crown. Our parents don’t want the public to see how bratty you are!”

I growl softly, and my thigh is pinched lightly. Looking up, I see Rai staring down at me. His threatening gaze makes my growl stick in my throat.

“You did not come here for petty arguments,” Rai reminds me. I feel like prey when he looks at me like that.

“Um, right.” I am chastised and I keep quiet for a moment, taking a breath to collect myself. “Kagari, I am sorry about your doll. I wanted to apologize.”

“Hmph. Well, if you’re really sorry, then you can make it up to me.” 

“Of course,” I say, only a little nervous of what she will ask of me.

“Leave your new boy with me for an hour. I’ll return him to your chambers when I’m done with him.”  
  
Rai’s fur bristles slightly, and he shifts in his chair.

“Um, are you sure that is appropriate?” I ask.

“If it bothers you so much, I will keep one of my ladies-in-waiting in here with me.”

I look at Rai, and he removes his hand from my leg and meets Kagari’s gaze.  
  
“What are you going to do with him?” I ask, keeping my voice quiet—trying to keep the jealousy out of my tone and failing.

“Oh, I love his hair! It’s so pretty. I just want to brush it and style it.” 

“All right, I guess.” I really don't want to leave him here.  
  
“See you later, brother! You’re _excused_.” I look around and her lady has shown up. I don’t have any reason to distrust him around her if he really is a prince, anyway. But I do not trust Kagari. And I don't want to go back to my room without Rai.

I feel terrible. I do not like being kicked out of anyone’s rooms—especially not when Kagari has taken my new friend. To my surprise, my irritation changes to something heavy and sad in my chest as I’m walking back to my rooms. When I push open the doors to my chambers, I fall into a chaise and burst into tears.

I’m crying! Why? What is wrong with me?

Rai has chosen Kagari over me—and of course, he would. Why would he _want_ to spend time with me? I’m a brat, I cause him pain and physical punishment. I know I’m hard to be around—and I want to be different. If only for his attention, I want to learn to change and be different. What does he _want_ from me, exactly?

After indulging my jealousy and grief for longer than I’d anticipated, I wipe my tears, noting my eyes are red and swollen. When was the last time I cried like this? I don’t remember. I almost did yesterday when Rai frightened me, but not like _this_ —sobbing because my feelings were really hurt. When I do the fake tears for my parents, my eyes don’t swell like this, do they? It’s _not_ attractive.

After blowing my nose, I pick up a book my tutor assigned for me to read. It’s a collection of folk tales and fairy tales. I’ve been assigned it to determine the lessons to be learned from the stories. I have a hard time concentrating, but I have nothing else to do. And it keeps my mind off Rai and whatever my sister is doing to him. 

I realize I kind of want to brush his hair, too. He took such tender care of mine this morning—I touch my braid when I recall the feeling on my nape. Why is he kind to me? What is his reason?

It’s only been an hour—but it has dragged by—when the door is opened and Rai walks in. I have to struggle to keep myself seated on the chaise. I have the urge to jump up and fall into his arms, which would be inappropriate. His hair has been styled with small braids tied together in the back. He looks quite handsome and also… annoyed.

“Was that the best you could do?” He asks, accusingly.

“What? The best what?” I am slightly taken aback by his tone. He does seem irritated with me. What did I do to displease him now?

“With your sister. You couldn’t avoid getting angry and jealous—”

“I wasn’t _jealous_!” I insist—but I know it’s a lie.

“No? How would you describe it?”

“Um, I was irritated she—um, well, she wasn’t being modest!”

“Do you think you’re a better example of royalty than she is?” Rai asks.

My ears flatten at the implication.

“Of course I am! I’m the crown prince—”

“Yes, yes. I know. You’re the crown prince of Sisa. Whatever. My question is, are you setting a good example for your sibling?”

My mouth opens to reply, but words won’t come. Nothing comes out. I’m speechless. But—why does he feel like he has the right to criticize me?

“You can do better. I’ll help you.” His voice softens, and that is what my heart needs to hear. His frustration with me is _painful_. “Today was a good start. My expectations are high. But I know you can do better.”

“I didn’t _like_ you spending time with her!” I blurt. I do sound incredibly jealous.

“I’m well aware. And I wouldn’t have to if _you_ hadn’t broken her doll, realize.”

This is _my_ fault? I’m _really_ annoyed now. My lips pull into a pout.

“I want a nap. Leave me alone,” I huff, looking away. I don't mean what I say, though. I would be devastated if he left me again. Those thoughts make me lift my eyes up to his face, just to make sure he won't leave and return to Kagari.

“I could use one, too. Come on,” Rai approaches me and pulls me over to the bed.

“Don’t _touch_ me! Why are you handling me so freely?!” I snap, flustered by his proximity. I _really_ don’t want him to leave me alone—I realize this when I feel his hand on me. I want him to stay by my side. I'm so confused! Why am I fighting him if I want him to stay with me? Why do I fear his nearness? Why do I long for it? I feel tears brimming again. 

“Were you lonely?” Rai asks softly. He runs his hand through my hair and then strokes my ears. “You feel isolated, don’t you?”

“I don’t have _anyone_ here!” I sob softly. "No one looks out for me!"

“That isn’t true. You have me. Come up here.” Rai pulls me into the bed and wraps his arms around my back. I try to control my emotions, but feeling him so close—his warmth, his scent—makes my heart feel heavy and sad. His arms are breaking the barrier around my heart,  leaving me vulnerable and defenseless. “Just sleep.” 

I close my eyes, lying on top of his chest, and I enjoy his touch. I _really_ enjoy it. It makes my body feel warm and cared for, and it feels like he's caring for my heart and soul. My tears dampen his shirt a little, and I taste salt in my mouth. But I do drift off to sleep, basking in comfort.


End file.
